California to Wisconsin and Beyond
My wife and I loaded up the Tacoma with the rest of our belongings, said a few tearful goodbye's, and we were off to Wisconsin and our new life in the Midwest. In the Summer of 2007 California had seen better days although the worst was yet to come. The housing crisis was looming and the economy was getting ready implode like no one had seen since the depression of the 1930's. With 30 plus years of riding California's ups and downs, I could see the clouds on the horizon except that the numbers didn't begin to tell the story this time.
With the closure of the cheese plant where my wife was employed for many years came an offer of a transfer to Wisconsin. Around that time came the offer on the house, which sealed the deal. The trips out to Wisconsin were educational to say the least. Traveling from the confusion that is Madison, along highway 151, into the rolling hills and small farms of Lafayette County was like being transported into another world. Belmont seemed like something out of a Bruce Springsteen ballad, except that the factories hadn't closed. Other than that one particular, the place looked like your classic mid-western small town, bars included. Belmont boasts a population of 800 residents and three thriving bars, as well as whole lot of agriculture, which is the economic engine that keeps the surrounding area on an even keel. Lafayette County itself doesn't have a single traffic light as of this writing.
The initial move and settling down normally takes a while whether you are moving to Sacramento California or Belmont Wisconsin. The first thing you notice in Belmont is that everyone waves when they go by whether they are walking or driving. Try that while driving up highway 99 in California and you might get shot at or driven off the road by an angry gang member who thinks you've just flashed an opposing gang's sign. The next thing you notice about Belmont is that at certain times of the day the local traffic is concentrated in the area immediately surrounding the town's three bars. The sight to behold is spectacle of an Amish buggy sharing one of the back roads with an eighteen wheeler. I can report never having seen an Amish buggy parked outside the local bar, which would be worth an entire article unto itself.
In the Mid-West, Old Man Winter is your constant companion from October through the month of May. One of the first things the locals will inquire about, with a chuckle, is whether you have a snow blower and a shovel. For newcomers the first snow storm can be a real jaw dropper, especially coming from the Toole fog of California. A tell tale sign is the number of snow throwers local retailers stock beginning in September. Yes, you heard me right, snow thrower. The locals will politely correct you when asked about a snow blower since most years there is too much snow on the ground to simply blow, thus the term snow thrower. Throwing snow is an art unto itself since one must check wind and direction to avoid a nasty letter from the local village authority for putting snow into the street or your neighbor's yard. In addition, one must accept the fact that the wind can undo your handy work in a matter of minutes blowing the snow you just threw right back to where it was to begin with.
The astounding number of alcohol related accidents is a shock even to the system of those of us accustomed to the grizzly statistics of California's freeways. With over 40 percent of accidents on Wisconsin's highways and back roads being alcohol involved, authorities certainly have their hands full. A more modern hazard we notice is the ubiquitous cell phone attached at the ear of young and old drivers alike. This writer suspects that at some point the number of accidents caused by distracted drivers will approach that of drunk driving accidents.
The wife of the local party chairman( I won't mention which one) once told me that I may live here, but will never be one of "them". Upon further questioning, she told me that after 30 years she and her husband are still seen as somewhat outsiders. Unless you were born here and were raised among the locals, you will never be fully accepted. I knew exactly what she was saying since I've spent my entire life as an outsider. When you emigrate from Portugal to California, even as a small child, the difficulties are inherent in the mere fact you don't quite look or act like the other kids in class. Take those factors and add a move to the Mid-West from California where, again, you don't quite resemble the local flavor. Now take all of that and add a move back to where it all started in the small towns and villages of the Azores and you have one confused situation.
In a way, going home would seem to make the most sense. Hold on just a minute, what did a man say about never being able to go home again? The old place in the Azores has changed so much and we have changed so much that there would certainly be a period of adjustment. When my family and I left in 1972 there was no electricity and the roads weren't even paved. Although trips back have been frequent, the place changes every time we visit. There too, the locals can immediately tell who is visiting and who belongs. When we leave they just go back to their routine as if we had never been there. We are mere visitors peering through the window into their world.
That world is not a perfect one by any means, yes the evils of alcohol, drugs, and cell phones have encroached upon even my idyllic little corner of paradise. No one can say I am not prepared for these realities, although it can be hard to face this incursion upon this place . The sun and surf of the Azores sure beat the snow and the ice of Wisconsin by a long shot. I can write and run my businesses, maybe teach, thanks to the internet and the peace and quiet the old island provides. Truth be told, Wisconsin does provide the peace and quiet, but I can't help but miss the other stuff.
I can't say I won't miss Wisconsin since presstrain.com was born here, but guess what, like that little boy that came to the states with his parents all those many years ago, it too will grow among prosper among other cultures and peoples. Wisconsin has certainly provided me with the peace of mind to pursue my writing, as imperfect as it is, and to cultivate the close friendships that have developed over the years and the miles. I owe a lot to these old friends who have always been there when times weren't so good, the tales they tell and the lives they have lived would fill many pages. There are many articles to be written and many stories yet to be told on the pages of presstrain.com....
With the closure of the cheese plant where my wife was employed for many years came an offer of a transfer to Wisconsin. Around that time came the offer on the house, which sealed the deal. The trips out to Wisconsin were educational to say the least. Traveling from the confusion that is Madison, along highway 151, into the rolling hills and small farms of Lafayette County was like being transported into another world. Belmont seemed like something out of a Bruce Springsteen ballad, except that the factories hadn't closed. Other than that one particular, the place looked like your classic mid-western small town, bars included. Belmont boasts a population of 800 residents and three thriving bars, as well as whole lot of agriculture, which is the economic engine that keeps the surrounding area on an even keel. Lafayette County itself doesn't have a single traffic light as of this writing.
The initial move and settling down normally takes a while whether you are moving to Sacramento California or Belmont Wisconsin. The first thing you notice in Belmont is that everyone waves when they go by whether they are walking or driving. Try that while driving up highway 99 in California and you might get shot at or driven off the road by an angry gang member who thinks you've just flashed an opposing gang's sign. The next thing you notice about Belmont is that at certain times of the day the local traffic is concentrated in the area immediately surrounding the town's three bars. The sight to behold is spectacle of an Amish buggy sharing one of the back roads with an eighteen wheeler. I can report never having seen an Amish buggy parked outside the local bar, which would be worth an entire article unto itself.
In the Mid-West, Old Man Winter is your constant companion from October through the month of May. One of the first things the locals will inquire about, with a chuckle, is whether you have a snow blower and a shovel. For newcomers the first snow storm can be a real jaw dropper, especially coming from the Toole fog of California. A tell tale sign is the number of snow throwers local retailers stock beginning in September. Yes, you heard me right, snow thrower. The locals will politely correct you when asked about a snow blower since most years there is too much snow on the ground to simply blow, thus the term snow thrower. Throwing snow is an art unto itself since one must check wind and direction to avoid a nasty letter from the local village authority for putting snow into the street or your neighbor's yard. In addition, one must accept the fact that the wind can undo your handy work in a matter of minutes blowing the snow you just threw right back to where it was to begin with.
The astounding number of alcohol related accidents is a shock even to the system of those of us accustomed to the grizzly statistics of California's freeways. With over 40 percent of accidents on Wisconsin's highways and back roads being alcohol involved, authorities certainly have their hands full. A more modern hazard we notice is the ubiquitous cell phone attached at the ear of young and old drivers alike. This writer suspects that at some point the number of accidents caused by distracted drivers will approach that of drunk driving accidents.
The wife of the local party chairman( I won't mention which one) once told me that I may live here, but will never be one of "them". Upon further questioning, she told me that after 30 years she and her husband are still seen as somewhat outsiders. Unless you were born here and were raised among the locals, you will never be fully accepted. I knew exactly what she was saying since I've spent my entire life as an outsider. When you emigrate from Portugal to California, even as a small child, the difficulties are inherent in the mere fact you don't quite look or act like the other kids in class. Take those factors and add a move to the Mid-West from California where, again, you don't quite resemble the local flavor. Now take all of that and add a move back to where it all started in the small towns and villages of the Azores and you have one confused situation.
In a way, going home would seem to make the most sense. Hold on just a minute, what did a man say about never being able to go home again? The old place in the Azores has changed so much and we have changed so much that there would certainly be a period of adjustment. When my family and I left in 1972 there was no electricity and the roads weren't even paved. Although trips back have been frequent, the place changes every time we visit. There too, the locals can immediately tell who is visiting and who belongs. When we leave they just go back to their routine as if we had never been there. We are mere visitors peering through the window into their world.
That world is not a perfect one by any means, yes the evils of alcohol, drugs, and cell phones have encroached upon even my idyllic little corner of paradise. No one can say I am not prepared for these realities, although it can be hard to face this incursion upon this place . The sun and surf of the Azores sure beat the snow and the ice of Wisconsin by a long shot. I can write and run my businesses, maybe teach, thanks to the internet and the peace and quiet the old island provides. Truth be told, Wisconsin does provide the peace and quiet, but I can't help but miss the other stuff.
I can't say I won't miss Wisconsin since presstrain.com was born here, but guess what, like that little boy that came to the states with his parents all those many years ago, it too will grow among prosper among other cultures and peoples. Wisconsin has certainly provided me with the peace of mind to pursue my writing, as imperfect as it is, and to cultivate the close friendships that have developed over the years and the miles. I owe a lot to these old friends who have always been there when times weren't so good, the tales they tell and the lives they have lived would fill many pages. There are many articles to be written and many stories yet to be told on the pages of presstrain.com....
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